


Red

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dave's POV, Fighting, M/M, SO SAD, Sad, crockertier john, i can't write fighting, ignore this unless you like it, not fluffy, then please tell me, wow this is my first fanfic i'm so dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:48:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1472116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never thought you'd want to hurt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> wow this is my first fanfic. criticism and comments are VERY MUCH WELCOME.

You never thought you'd want to hurt him. 

Hug him, kiss him, talk to him- things you'd always wanted to do, they sat in the back of your mind, always present, especially around him. But now, you wanted to hurt him. 

This may have been due to the fact that he was trying to hurt you as well, but it still made you feel bad. He swung his now-red hammer at your face, and you stepped back quickly, avoiding getting your head smashed in. Your sword in hand, you try to swing at him, but there's barely any strength in it. You may want to hurt him, but you can't. You just can't. 

His white eyes glare at you from above a vicious grin. The red lines extending from his eyes freak you out more than a little; John isn't supposed to look like that. He's not supposed to laugh maniacally and try and smash you into a puddle, he isn't supposed to be clothed in red from head to toe, he isn't supposed to be trying to kill you. Your heart cinches tighter as he sighs and swings at you again, levitating slightly to get higher ground over you. The hammerhead hits your chest and you're knocked to the ground, unable to fight back against him, even when he looks so different. His dorky teeth still stick out over his lip, his hair is still sticking up in the most random places. It's still him. 

You tell yourself that it's still him, that he isn't dead. You tell yourself that on the inside, he's trying not to do this- it's something else completely that's making him try to murder you. You know it's the Condesce doing this, you know he's not controlling himself, but there's this small part of yourself that's telling you he doesn't want you around. He doesn't want you here, he doesn't want to have to see you, he doesn't want to talk to you, and he's trying to get rid of you. Rationally, you know that it isn't true. He's your best friend, he likes talking to you, he wanted to play this game with you. 

Hah. This game. He wanted to play this game, to get you all into this ridiculous mess- to kill you all, essentially. The irrational part of your brain tells you he was leading up to this all along. That he wanted you dead. He'd be too nice to ignore you, or tell you that he wants you gone, so he'd do this, and blame it on the game. You feel a strange pressure on your chest. It isn't like the usual pressure- the twisting, crushing feeling of unrequited love- it's pressing on you. You're a bit out of it at the moment and it takes you a bit too long to realize that he is stepping on your chest, keeping you down. He doesn't need to do that, you're too disabled at the moment to get up anyway. Your head had hit the cement a bit hard when his hammer smacked you into the ground. You weakly grab at his ankle, trying to stop him killing you, not trying to hurt him. His heel digs into your solar plexus, and you fight for air. 

"John," You wheeze, trying to get his attention, trying to make him himself again. You know that you couldn't do it, you wouldn't be the one to break him out of this. "John, please," You manage, somehow. 

"Oh, shush, Dave," He mutters, and his voice is warped with static. It isn't his voice, and you're hit by the realization that you could quite possibly never hear his voice again. This could take over him forever. 

Suddenly, he's leaning down, kneeling on your chest rather than stepping, his face uncomfortably close. Well, not uncomfortable. Unsettlingly. He smiles widely and grips the side of your head with your hair. He pulls your head up, and you're seriously expecting him to kiss you. You flush red. Even though it isn't him, even though it isn't what you ever wanted- you'd still love it, and you're ready for it as he brings you closer. You should've realised that he'd never kiss you, even if he was fucked in the head. He smashes your head back down into the unmoving hard floor, shaking your world and giving you a massive headache. You think you might have a concussion. Your eyes are tightly closed as you try to rid your head of the ache that spreads through it from the contact point, and you feel your shades slip off. God, that wasn't going to help, it was bright as hell in here and your sensitive red eyes couldn't take much light. Your eyes open, curious as to why you haven't been hurt again. You find John different as he was a few moments ago. His eyes, just like yours, have been turned bright red. The same lines that run over his face have moved up and into his eyes, pooling into his irises, his pupils still bright white. It's more unnerving than you'd expect. You shut your eyes again, unable to take the stimulation, and you realize he's been laughing. Laughing at you in pain. John had only ever done that when you hit your knee on the underside of your desk during a videochat, or accidentally stabbed yourself with a pen. Never at real pain. Never at anything that legitimately hurt. His laughter dies down and he smashes your head against the pavement again. Your put your hands on his leg and try to push him off. Once he notices that you're fighting back, he moves his hands lower and grips your neck. You can't open your eyes, you don't want to know what he looks like, the expression on his face as he chokes the life force out of you. You start to move, try to get him off you- but he's much stronger, and you're too damaged. You can't draw in any air, and you feel yourself becoming even more lightheaded. In a fit of intelligence, John manages to hit your head against the cement as he chokes you. You feel sleepy, and you can't help but black out.

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys if you like it then like comment n shit and i'll write backstory hhh


End file.
